April 6th, 2018

On we go into the weekend proper.

The band we have in-house this weekend being who they are, there was definitely a bit of a low rumbling in the air as I entered. Walking into the employee window of the cage to get my weekend bar money, I encountered also the restaurant bartender who’s going to be shifting into our part of the world. Let’s call her Abby. There is, I assure you, a thought train that makes this nickname a thing, but it’s far to obscure and convoluted to go into, so I”ll refrain. At any rate, whilst talking, she’s of the opinion that I’m due to man the service bar tonight. This gives me pause, because if that’s the case, getting my money at the other cage is much more convenient, so I figure I’ll ask Granny Nobs where she wants me. As I’m approaching the main bar again, I pass and nod towards one of the banquet barkeeps whom I’ve worked with many times. We’ll call her Jude. I think nothing more of it.

Granny Nobs is leaning on the back bar with a curious expression on her face as we approach. Apparently Jude was volunteered into our service. I volunteer to go down to the service bar. Granny Nobs concurs with the idea and says she’ll be down to unlock things soon, so off I trot, quite pleased that the acoustic ear plugs in my pocket won’t need to be used afterall.

I travel down the back hallways as it’s quicker. On my way to the other cage, I briefly stop into a very tasty-smelling side room where they were having a Food/Beverage employee appreciation day. Due to scheduling and such I wasn’t able to sneak in to have a bite to eat, and I’m half hoping there’s takeout boxes in there that I could make use of, but alas, it is not to be. It ends up basically just being 2 minutes of smelling really yummy things that I won’t get to eat, and then I decide I’m done torturing myself and move on down the line.

I get my money. I go to the service bar. I begin arranging things to my liking. I get some coffee. I tell various people we’ll be unlocked soon, can I get you a mixed drink instead, etc. Eventually a supervisor shows up. Just before she starts unlocking things, the phone rings. The long and the short of it – one of our cocktail girls called in, and so I’m being shunted back down to the lounge.

-sigh-

Ah well. So I re-mothball the bar, grab my money back into my carry bag, and head down to the lounge to set up shop. Jude was quite convinced that she was going to hang out behind the bar with us rather than go play cocktail girl, but she was wrong, and she’s out on the floor doing her thing soon enough, which pleases Abby and I, as we now only have to split the bar take two ways, rather than three.

It’s busy, but not horrible, and about an hour shy of showtime, Granny Nobs starts shuttling us off to meal break. On a night like this, it’s all I expect, honestly. I go off to my break. I return. Abby goes off to break. At one point, a guest sits down at one of our bartop slot machines. The guest next to her protests that his wife was sitting her. I point out, politely but dutifully, that guests actually wishing to play the games -do- technically have priority on the chairs. The annoyed guest gets up and stomps off. The other keeps rambling on about how she’s polite but that the games take priority, and so on. I personally want them to all be quiet.

The annoyed guest does make one more appearance at the bar to order a drink, and tell me that it was a really low thing I did kicking him out of his chair. Which – technically – I didn’t do. “With all the money I spend here….”, blah blah blah. I’m sorry, but the whole “I’m entitled to get whatever I want because I patronize your establishment” line gets really tedious. My annoyance with him lasts all of about 2.5 minutes, and then he doesn’t even darken my brain’s doorway.

The show itself was what I expectded. Loud. Worthy of inserting my ear plugs. Busy. Abby got a real taste of a busy bar night and I think her eyes popped slightly when I informed her that I don’t -take- breaks in such situations. I don’t like being left out to dry by myself in that situation, so I simply refuse to do it to anyone else. I don’t think she’s quite of that mindset. She took her other break when she could. I just didn’t worry about it and kept making money. Set the good example.

She had bought a bottle opener to hang around her neck, but it ddn’t work teribly well, and she was intrigued enough by my own personal bottle opener that she was happy to get the website address. Wouldn’t shock me to see her rocking her own Fleaflicka soon.

No drunken problems tonight, which was nice, and generally no complaints. I made pretty good money and while my closing procedures took longer thanks to the confusion at the beginning of the shift and a minor math problem on my part, it all worked out well.

Closing observations :

After 9 years, I’m actually starting to get multi-dollar tips from some of our more stalward Native non-tippers. Acceptance is a good thing.
I think Abby will probably work out with a little seasoning. The fact that she has experience helps, but the Lounge is a different animal than a restaurant bar. I think this last shift gave her a little underlining on that point.
The metaphorical Spinal Tap volume setting for the evening was probably about an 8. Let’s seei if cranks up any higher tomorrow.

Next up : Saturday night